Moments in Ferelden
by mille libri
Summary: The songfic meme, because it looked like and was fun. Largely nonspecific female PC/Alistair, but a couple of surprises.


This is my first attempt at drabble, or a meme, so be gentle, please! It was a remarkably amusing exercise. Hope you enjoy reading the results!

Nonspecific female PCs, mostly with Alistair.

**The Rules:**

**1. **Pick a fandom/character/pairing you like.

**2. **Turn on your music player and click shuffle.

**3. **Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to write it – you start when it starts, you finish when it finishes. No lingering! My added rule: if it's shorter than two minutes, go to the next one.

**4.** Do ten and post.

As always, BioWare owns Dragon Age and all its bits, steamy and otherwise.

**Song 1: Peter, Paul, & Mary, "No Other Name" **_(female PC nonspecific origin/Alistair – 105 words)_

Her body lay on the pyre, mourners from around the country come to grieve the loss of the Hero of Ferelden. But the man she had loved did not kneel at the side of the body. He knew better than any that she was no longer there. He stood instead watching the light, knowing that if she was anywhere, it was in the wind at his face or the sun that shone down on him. And knowing he hadn't really lost her, the King of Ferelden turned back to his duties, his sorrow tempered by the knowledge that he would see her again one day.

**Song 2: West Side Story, "Tonight"** _(female PC nonspecific origin/Alistair – 95 words)_

Tomorrow they would attack the Archdemon. One of them would thrust a sword deep into its eyes and would be lost in the explosion. But tonight, none of that mattered. They came together in a crash of cymbals and a swelling of violins, their mouths and bodies meeting as though an eternity lay before them instead of one foreshortened day. Tonight the very stars looked down and marveled at the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden as they celebrated a love that had been doomed from the beginning. And the orchestra rose to a crescendo.

**Song 3: The Drifters, "Up on the Roof" **_(female PC nonspecific origin – 126 words)_

The sun beat down on the battle site, glinting off bits of armor still unpainted with the blood and gore that flew everywhere, splashes of red and flashes of blue from mage and dragon alike. Noise filled the air—the clash of metal on metal, the screams of the wounded and dying, the harsh shriek of the Archdemon. But none of it registered in her mind. For her the rooftop was still and peaceful, quiet and pale. All that registered in her mind was the bright blade in her hand, the neck of the dragon in front of her, and the duty that carried her feet forward. She turned her face to the sun one last time, feeling its friendly kiss, and ran to her fate.

**Song 4: Anne Murray, "Time Don't Run Out on Me"**_(Alistair/female PC nonspecific origin – 176 words)_

Deep in his blood he felt the taint boiling. It was sooner than he had expected—he'd always hoped to have the full 30 years, as much of it to spend with her as possible. His fist clenched, smashing the mirror that told the tale of the years as surely as the advancing girth of his stomach and the increasing horror of his nightmares. He'd thought he was prepared for this, but there was so much still to do. So much to tell her, so much to teach to his son, so much to do to ensure the future of his people. By now, he'd almost forgotten how hard he'd fought to keep from being put on the throne—now being King and being Alistair seemed the same, and he felt it a betrayal of the people who had looked to him for guidance all this time to have to give in to this creeping disease that was taking over his body ever faster. It was too soon, he thought, but then, when wouldn't have been?

**Song 5: The Clash, "I Fought the Law"** _(Alistair/female PC nonspecific origin – 142 words)_

She sat up, groaning, putting a hand to her aching head. "Where are we?"

"Fort Drakon," Alistair said, obviously relieved to see her awake.

"Ser Cauthrien?"

"Apparently she won the battle. Not that I was awake to see it." He displayed a swollen purple lump on his head to match the one she was sure was on hers.

"Well, that wasn't the way this was supposed to go." Only now did she realize that they were wearing only their smallclothes. "Now that isn't playing fair at all. How do we get out of here?"

"You don't, traitors," sneered a guard outside the cage.

"Want a bet?" she asked under her breath, already planning her strategy. Loghain and Howe were not going to win. Not as long as she had breath left in her body, and maybe not even if they killed her.

**Song 6: Peter, Paul, & Mary, "Leavin' on a Jet Plane"**_(Gorim/female Aeducan – 138 words)_

He reached through the bars to stroke her face. "I never thought I would have to leave you this way, my heart," he whispered. "But they will not let me stay with you. I begged, but they would not be moved."

"At least one of us will live through this."

"I will wait for you on the surface. Find me if you fight your way free. I promise, I'll be waiting."

"Gorim, will you—Will you hold me one last time?" she whispered, the tears flowing down her face.

"They'll see, my lady. Your family will know."

What did that matter now? she wondered, her disappointment drowning the sweet words he whispered through the bars. Would he really be waiting, there in Denerim? Or would freedom mean forgetting as he found someone with whom life would be uncomplicated?

**Song 7: Seal, "Kiss from a Rose"** _(female PC nonspecific origin/Alistair – 178 words)_

She went to the pyre. Someone had tried to clean up his armor, to make what was left of his face presentable. It didn't matter to her—his face was imprinted on her mind's eye. She could see it, feel his touch, hear his stupid jokes. Long after they had both been consigned to myth, she would remember, not the hero, but the warrior whose strong hands had turned gentle when he touched her.

She drew her plain grey cape closer around her against the night's chill, bringing the hood up and over her head, not wanting to be recognized this night. Of all the companions she had gathered, only the mabari remained, crouching at her feet, and only he would go with her after she turned her steps away from this cold, wet land and the deceptive warmth of its memories.

The last thing she did before she turned to leave Ferelden forever was place one single, perfect rose in the blasted, ruined hands of the man on the pyre. It had always been his, after all.

**Song 8: Elton John, "Rocket Man" **_(Riordan – 251 words)_

The stairs to the top of Fort Drakon seemed to take forever, as he expected hordes of darkspawn to jump out at him at any moment. But he moved with sure, swift, silent steps ever upwards. He felt oddly dizzy, as though somehow this walk—which one way or another would be his last—was somehow slowly removing his ties to the earth below. He liked the idea that as he had come into the world in Ferelden, he would be going out of it here as well.

At last the door was open before him, the rooftop stretching forth. He walked to the edge, pacing, waiting for the dragon that would be coming. It would have to come, both attracted and repelled by the shared taint in their blood, as he was. All he had to do was to wait, to leap, and not to miss.

Each moment seemed to take forever to tick by as he caught sight of it, the sun glinting off its scales, gliding towards him, its unholy shriek tearing the sky. It passed the wall where he stood, and he jumped, knowing as his foot left the stone that he had judged right, that he would land on it. But it proved too much for him, and eventually the dagger he had stuck in its wing ripped down, down, and he was falling free in the air. He consigned his soul to the Maker, falling into space, hoping that those after him would fare better.

**Song 9: Trisha Yearwood, "Walkaway Joe"** _(Alistair/female PC nonspecific origin – 180 words)_

"How can you do this to me?" she asked in a whisper. "We … made promises. You said you loved me."

"I know we did. And I know what I said. I meant it. But now it's different. You made it different, and we can't change what needs to be."

"I didn't mean … for it to end this way."

"I guess you should have thought of that before, then, shouldn't you?" he said bitterly. "You wanted me to step up and make the decisions, and that's what I'm doing. I can't help it if you're not happy with them. For the record, I'm not that happy with several of yours, either."

She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come. What words were there? His mind was made up, and he had left her already. He might be standing in front of her, but he wasn't really there. And as her heart ripped open, he turned on his heel and she heard the terrible, implacable clatter of the metal boots on the stone as he walked away from her.

**Song 10: Weird Al Yankovic, "Amish Paradise" **_(unnamed Lothering farmholder – 140 words)_

He didn't know what was wrong with these cows today. All of them skittish and jumpy. He'd had all he could do to milk them this morning, and now they were maddened, kicking at the bars of their stalls. He sighed, taking the milk pails in his hands, trudging across the filthy farmyard to the house. Maybe there was a storm coming. Once it passed, hopefully the cows would settle down.

There was a strange scent on the wind suddenly, sounds like hundreds of men coming through the woods. And he saw the first of them. His feet were glued to the ground by something more than mud as he saw them come out of the woods—twisted, blackened things that looked like men. The arrow found his throat before he could scream, and the milk pooled around his boots.


End file.
